Covet the Night, page 26
Gwen shook her head. "They've been keeping a closer eye on us since the Cellar incident. They probably chose this route because it was away from trouble."
"Clearly trouble had no problem finding you."
"Clearly," Gwen parroted with fatigue. William cupped her cheek and stepped closer. "First Brit and now Liv." A spark of fear kindled in her gut. "And you… you always seem to turn up right when you're needed. What a coincidence, don't you think?" she said, hoping the strangled edge to her voice wasn't as obvious as her own ears had made it out to be.
He swept the roughened pad of his thumb back and forth over Gwen's cheek. Her words had not lost their implication, and he stared down at her with grave intensity.
"Maybe it's fate," he argued without missing a beat.
She withdrew her gaze first, staring listlessly off to the side as she struggled with her emotions. "No," Gwen said at last, every short inhalation keenly felt as it pumped through her body. "This can't be happening. Why does this keep happening?" She was a magnet for trouble—no, for death. First Brit, then Liv. Who next? Becca? She slanted her gaze up to meet William's copper eyes, and her heart skipped a beat.
"I have to go."
Whatever dark magic still permeated the air nipped at her skin. Each taste elicited a wave of nausea. Or perhaps it was the partial glimpse of Liv's bloodied body burned behind her retinas.
"I can't be caught down here with Liv." Dozens of worst-case scenarios pummeled Gwen. What if they think I was involved in her death? Her pulse picked up its pace. "I have to go." She tried to put distance between herself and William. "Let me go. I have to go back."
Defiantly, he hooked his hand behind her neck and tugged her closer.
"Now, hold on a second—"
Gwen's growl cut him off. "They're going to think I had something to do with this! Don't you get it? I was with Brit when she was killed, and now I was the last one to be with Liv! They'll kill me." And it will be permanent. The thought left her quaking. She didn't want to die.
William shushed her kindly, his fingers rubbing small circles on the back of her neck as a multitude of emotions flitted across his eyes in calculation.
"They don't have to know," he murmured, eyes uncannily bright. "Let's make sure you don't have any blood on you, aye? You'll be ruined if you do. Give us a circle."
The blood drained from Gwen's face as William's hand dropped away. She hadn't thought of that.
"She never touched me. There shouldn't—" She looked over herself meticulously, calming only when William gave his approval. Gwen's shoulders sagged as she aimed numbly up the stairs, but she only made it one step before his hand was on her again. "What?" she asked with tired exasperation. "I have to go back—oh! My candle."
"Your candle?"
Gwen nodded fervently at William's dubious frown. "I can't go back without it." She patted her waistband and felt the cool touch of metal through her thin pants, sighing gratefully. "I think it should be near the corner."
William's mouth thinned, but he nodded and sped toward the area, giving Gwen an unobstructed view of Liv—or what was left of her. Her stomach heaved, covering her mouth with both hands at the sight of the body. Liv's chest was gone, concaved and singed black; a shadow of blood pooled around her.
In the next heartbeat, William was there with her candle.
Gwen reached for the dwindled piece of wax and its metal carrier, unable to meet his gaze. He pulled it out of her reach.
"No 'thank you'?"
She bit her tongue. "Thank you." She reached for the candle again, but he held it out of reach.
"For what?" he rumbled.
She blushed, anger creeping into her voice. "For getting my candle."
"And…?"
Ugh. Gwen squeezed her eyes shut and sucked up her pride. "For saving me."
"I couldn't quite hear that last one."
"You're a hybrid." Her eyes snapped open. "You heard me just fine."
A quirky grin tilted his lips. "Aye, you're right. Suppose I just like hearing you say it." William straightened, rolled his shoulders back, and cleared his throat. "Now that we've established I saved you, I know exactly how you can repay me."
The color left Gwen's cheeks. "Repay you?" Seriously? "You're unbelievable! I can't believe you would—"
"Dinner will suffice. Just the two of us."
She clenched her hands at her sides as she stared him down. The audacity of this man! I just went through hell, and he’s asking for a date? Her entire body thrummed with anger and the callous burn of disappointment. He'd earned his name at court well.
"Don't be mad, sweet. You can't blame a man for being persistent. You said it yourself—your sisters are keeping you under lock and key. All I want is some quality time with you." William studied her face after his earnest explanation, but upon seeing Gwen's steadfast ire, he sighed. "I'm not lettin' you go back to them till I have your word. So, either we can stand here and wait for your sisters to wonder where the hell you are and come find you, wherein I'll make my recompense again, or you can go on your way with your sisterhood none-the-wiser, and we’ll dine in due time."
"Fine," she spat and then gnashed her teeth together.
Victory glinted in William's eyes, though his stomach twisted from the means it was won. "Good. Go back to your sisters, and don't say a word about your friend, aye? They don't need to know what went on down here, and I'll make sure there's no trace of you here for them to find."
Gwen nodded stiffly and hurried up the stairs, leaving her fate in William's hands.
Again.
XV
G
wen raced back to the suite as fast as she could, her mind cluttered with thoughts. Chief among them were Liv's tragic end, William's outrageous behavior, and a certain realization that she didn't want to die. She stopped to take a few deep breaths.
It doesn’t matter what I want, Gwen reminded herself stoically. The tincture could only forestall her cancer for so long, and death was a patient and persistent suitor.
Much like William.
Her pensive mood shifted to one of aggravation and confusion. She didn't understand his doggedness. What did he want from her? Was he out to test her loyalty to the Roux? Did he want to use her to advance his cause at court? Or was he sincere?
It doesn’t matter, she told herself. She knew an affirmation of any of his motives meant the same thing: her second shot at life was in jeopardy. For that reason alone, she couldn't entertain the restless tugging at her heart whenever she thought of him or the way her body turned electric when he was near.
Gwen gave herself a final once-over when she reached the Roux common room's secret entrance. She was lucky she'd gotten away without a scratch or a drop of blood on her. Patting her flask for good measure, she edged inside the common room. If they asked, she'd say she left the room with Liv still in it.
Hopefully, they wouldn't put much stock in her racing heart.
No sooner had she stepped inside than she was enveloped in the chilly embraces of Lily and Hazel. They neatly extracted the useless candle from her possession and combed back her hair as they murmured how happy they were to see her while escorting her deeper inside. The whole of the sisterhood was there standing in an informal semicircle. Four chairs sat at its center, and Antonia and Becca took up two of them.
Becca smiled at Gwen. Her cheeks boasted a pleasant flush, and triumph was vibrant in her eyes. Antonia, on the other hand, looked despondent, casting puppy-dog eyes frequently in Madame Roux's direction.
"Ah, at last. Come, Gwendolyn." Madame Roux beckoned with an impatient wave of her wrist, stepping out of the semicircle. "Present your prize to the sisterhood."
Hazel’s and Lily's guiding hands dropped away as Gwen moved forward. When she was within arm's reach, she lowered to one knee and offered the flask with a bowed head. Without any prior instruction of what to say, Gwen remained silent, flask outstretched before her. A moment later, it was taken.
"Your triumph is our triumph," Madame Roux said.
Gwen peeked up through drawn lashes, watching as Madame Roux poured the contents of the flask into a goblet. Pride warmed Gwen as the turquoise liquid caught the chandelier's light. She'd completed the task and put her past to rest. Despite every other catastrophe, she was one step closer in her journey to become a Roux. That was all that mattered.
Madame Roux offered her the goblet. "Drink. Quench your thirst."
An explosion of mint hit her taste buds—cool and refreshing—with the sweetest undertone that left Gwen gulping down the contents. She finished the drink with a gasp, her nerve endings tingling. Every ache and pain she suffered was numb—until the aftereffects of this magic kicked in. Hands gently guided her up. The simple act made her head spin, but Hazel and Lily kept her up easily.
"Rest now. Your needs will be met as we wait for Olivia."
Madame Roux's words registered belatedly as Gwen was steered to the seat between Antonia and Becca. She offered the pair a weak smile, hoping no one would catch the way it shook or the odd tick to her pulse.
They'd be waiting a long time for Liv to come.
"Congratulations, Gwen." Becca nudged her shoulder and grinned.
The effects of the drink amplified Becca's warm praise, and another wave of delighted tingles danced over Gwen's body. She shrugged with unexpected shyness and curved a smile back.
"Thanks."
Gwen ducked her head to hide her torn feelings. The liquid's magic leveled her with elation, but the somber knowledge of the horror that waited in the passageway for her sisters to discover spoiled its effects.
"How long have you been waiting?" She straightened.
A happy flush stained Becca's cheeks. "A couple hours. I was the first done."
"Wow, congratulations. That's incredible, Becca."
The younger American flushed with pride, her hands fussing together with restless energy. "Thanks. It wasn't easy, but—" Becca looked back around to the sisters, then to Gwen. "—it was worth it. I thought the bravest thing I'd ever done was to come here, but tonight was a revelation." The color in her cheeks flared. After clearing her throat, she cast her gaze toward Antonia. "Antonia got back about an hour ago. I'm guessing Liv will arrive in an hour or so if this pattern holds up.”
Gwen turned to the Eastern European beauty. She kept her eyes trained on her clasped hands. "How was your experience?"
"Private." Gwen raised an eyebrow at the waspish retort. Antonia slanted a sneer at her. "And what took you so long, hmm? I heard your soon-to-be sister line was bragging that you'd already proven your commitment to the Roux, but if that was the case, dear Rebecca wouldn't have beaten you."
"Or you."
Their conversation ended with twin smiles of contempt.
Becca cleared her throat to break the tension.
"How was it for you, Gwen?"
"Intense."
Becca nodded with ready eagerness. "I—" She stopped herself suddenly, pupils contracting and throat bobbing as she recalled some detail of her experience. "Yes," she agreed, losing some of her enthusiasm. "It was intense, but that's one of the reasons I'm so proud of myself."
"Me too." Gwen took Becca's hand and squeezed.
"You should have seen Cassia when I walked through the doors first. I've never been smiled at like that before. She was so proud that I was the first to finish."
A tray filled with a plate of steaming food and two glasses of water interrupted their conversation. Gwen thanked the sister profusely before tucking into the finely cooked lamb and aromatic rice. Becca continued her idle chatter as Gwen ate, skirting any topic that ventured too close to what actually happened in their individual initiations.
By hour’s end, Gwen and Becca were discussing the Delacroix's failing fashion sense. Antonia hadn't spoken another word to them. By the second hour’s end, Gwen and Becca's conversation dwindled to sparse words, and a coffee tray was brought out for the initiates.
"I can't believe Liv isn't back yet." Becca cast a frown at Gwen and Antonia. The exuberance of the magical water had lessened with time and the consumption of food and coffee. A headache was creeping up on Gwen.
"It takes time to exorcise the demons of one's past." Antonia's comment drew both women's eyes. She sat hunched over her knees, her porcelain coffee cup held almost reverently between her palms at her lips. She sipped her milked-down concoction. "Or maybe she’s dead."
Becca made a startling noise that resembled a frightened mouse that overtook the sound of Gwen's sharp inhalation.
"Madame escorted us herself to the Roux catacombs, and it was our sorcerers who watched over us." Gwen almost dropped her coffee at the revelation. "We couldn't have been safer. How could you possibly say such a thing?" Becca demanded.
"Because she's not here," Antonia stated simply, staring straight ahead as she took another sip.
By the third hour’s end, they sent the matriarch from Liv's soon-to-be sister line, Sage, to check on her. Becca latched onto Gwen's hand as they waited for her to return.
The wait was short. Gwen watched with unconcealed fear as Sage rushed to Madame Roux and whispered in her ear. Becca's fingernails dug into the back of Gwen's hand as Madame Roux addressed the sisterhood.
"Ladies, you are dismissed. Go to bed. Daughters of Rosemary and Orchid, stay. The rest of you tend to your charges."
Gwen and the others were herded from their seats, their respective sister lines crowding around them.
"There's nothing to worry about, pet." Laurel's words brushed against the side of Gwen's head before her cold lips pressed a kiss to her temple. She draped an arm across her shoulders, and half hugged her. "I'm sure it's some silly blunder by the sorcerers. Their pay will be docked, and a punishment befitting the situation will be dealt out."
A brittle, mournful scream splintered the air. Laurel's arm acted as both a shield and deterrent for Gwen's seeking gaze while keeping them moving.
"They will pay," Laurel said, holding Gwen's wide-eyed stare and squeezing her shoulder. "Never fear, my pet."
If Gwen thought the supervision of the sisterhood was confining before, it was nothing compared to the oversight the initiates faced now.
She took a healthy drink of her wine, darting her tongue out to snare the droplets escaping at the corners of her mouth. Official news of Liv's tragic demise was delivered as the initiates took their breakfast the following eve, accompanied by the announcement of a ball to celebrate the completion of their second test.
The sisterhood might be on high alert, Gwen thought, but not even death would derail their plans.
Tension lingered in the creases of smiles until the sisterhood was able to spin their narrative for eager ears at the midnight revelry. The celebration was in full swing in the Grand Salon. The air buzzed with the tale of the sorcerers seeking revenge—harbored since the night of the unfortunate Cellar incident—and taken out on their dear sweet girls. Emphatic smiles mixed with those of savage pleasure were given in reply as the Roux explained their swift resolution: killing their entire retainer of sorcerers. The news had shocked even the Royal Households, though none voiced their true emotion.
The entire floor was transformed for the night's festivities which hosted a far larger swath of guests. Save for some seating placed strategically about the room, the Grand Salon was clear of any decor that might distract from the massive dance floor. Lined in a thick wall of over-buffed candle stands, and with only two points of entry, an enchanting illusion of the night's sky hung over it. At the first note of every song, stardust floated down upon the dancers.
Each twirling skirt and poised line of a leading arm cut through the glittering magic with ease, and the effect was stunning. Gwen eyed the magical creation with longing, but the remnants of the other night's magical encounters lurked in her sore joints, keeping her away. As such, she was left on the sidelines in one of the sister's company.
Gwen took another drink.
"Oh, I completely understand," some simpering Habsburg trilled in passing. "Best to nip it in the bud before any more damage could be done. Honestly, to think we let them live in the court."
"They are relegated to the lowest levels, Elisabeth."
"Give an inch…. "
It was the third time Gwen had overheard the sentiment. She drained her glass.
"I need more wine."
A flicker of something flashed in Danica's blue eyes. Concern? Pity? It was gone too soon for Gwen to analyze, not that she wanted to partake in such a strenuous activity. No, tonight, she needed to embrace the Roux's predilection for selective amnesia and forget about who wasn't celebrating with them tonight.
A new goblet was pressed into her palm, the other taken and discarded.
"You're going through your spirits rather… briskly," Danica commented, her voice deceptively light.
"Really?" Gwen muttered. "I hadn't noticed."
"Others have, including me. Slow down. When you make a fool of yourself, you make a fool of us all. Understood?"
Gwen replied behind a bitter smile and a salute of her glass. "Crystal." And then she drank.
All around her, talk of the sorcerers' revenge was being circulated. And with each passing minute, "new details" kept cropping up, like how Liv's body had been found violated or the cultist runes painted on the walls with her blood. One even suggested that Liv had been a willing sacrifice and her defilement deserved. The only way Gwen kept her tongue in submission was by inhaling drink after drink. She wasn't going to stop now because of Danica. Let them think her troubled by the news and lies being tossed around—she was because she was the only one who knew the truth.
And William.
Gwen scanned the crowd but didn't spot the hulking warrior. She thought she caught glimpses of him earlier. His rich red copper hair and square jaw bobbed in and out of sight, but both times she'd lost him. If he was even there at all. She worried she was seeing things and wondered for the ninth time if the effects of whatever concoctions she'd ingested over the past thirty-six hours had something to do with it.
